


you might want me, but don't get pricked

by blacksuns (orphan_account)



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Bring The Tissues Out, Don't Read This If You Get Sad Easily, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Sad Ending, everyone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 20:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/blacksuns
Summary: If Younghoon stops and thinks about it, he realizes he’s probably been alwaysa littlein love with Changmin.





	you might want me, but don't get pricked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ykskkn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ykskkn/gifts).

> For my lovely [Kana](https://twitter.com/radiance02tbz)! Thank you so much for participating of [my drabble raffle](https://twitter.com/sejelyerim/status/1136779015883284480), and everyone else who joined it, too! It's a pleasure to collaborate(-ish) with you, thank you for letting me bring your wip to life through my writing!
> 
> Title taken from LOONA’s [Rosy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYcYzBPAp_k). 
> 
> Recommended soundtrack: Park Jimin's [Hopeless Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzC3HXA50cs).
> 
> Bring out a box of tissues and let's jump right into it! Happy reading, loves! <3

**1.**

If Younghoon stops and thinks about it, he realizes he’s probably always been _a little_ in love with Changmin.

It’s hard to _exist_ and not fall in love with Changmin, really. It’s been proven by Younghoon himself that is almost impossible to coexist in the same universe as Ji Changmin and not develop some sort of soft spot for him. He’d know because he’s known Changmin for years, ever since they were little kids with runny noses and bruises all over their legs from falling off their bikes before they even knew how to ride them probably, Younghoon has _always_ had a soft spot for him. That so-called soft spot grew into something so much bigger and greater than anything Younghoon has ever felt before, and maybe all the love and admiration that he felt for Changmin wasn’t just platonic; Younghoon found out the hard way that his fingers ache to touch Changmin and that his mouth is anxiously waiting for the day they will finally kiss. He’s yearning, really, hoping and craving Changmin’s affection and attention.

Younghoon likes looking at him. He finds himself staring for way too long, for amounts of time that go beyond what friends spend looking at each other; he stares at Changmin when he laughs, laid back and amused, showcasing rows and rows of perfect white teeth, the skin around his eyes crinkling when he laughs at some unfunny joke told by Kevin. He stares when Changmin dances, when the Scorpio, killer kingside of his personality pops up through the bubbliness and cuteness of Changmin’s seemingly innocent appearance. He stares when Changmin does anything as trivial as talking, because his diction is perfect and he’s so captivating and charismatic when he speaks, he can’t help but stare. Younghoon is always staring.

Younghoon stares at the bloody petals of striped carnation in his sink. _Refusal._ Petals that he just coughed up. They laugh at him and his misery, taunting. Changmin doesn’t love him back. God. Changmin doesn’t love him back. There’s blood on his fingertips, under his nails, and there are tiny speckles of blood painted on both the sleeves of his white shirt. This is a reminder, he tells himself, love is a scam and he will get over him.

It can’t possibly be _that hard_.

(It is.)

**2.**

When Younghoon notices the way Changmin looks at Chanhee, he feels like he should have seen it coming. He should have noticed that the way Changmin looked at him was anything but platonic, shiny eyes full of hope, full of yearning. He should have realized that the way Changmin gravitates toward Chanhee isn’t a coincidence; Changmin _wants_ to be around Chanhee at all times. The way Changmin always seems to be looking for Chanhee’s hand to hold, because just his presence is enough to comfort him, and how he instinctively clasps his hand at every given moment. He should have noted that there was a reason behind why he always felt like he was third-wheeling, sticking out like a sore thumb whenever the three of them got together.

For someone who’s always staring, Younghoon certainly doesn’t _see _all that much.

It’s quite a terrible way to find out his feelings for Changmin will never be reciprocated, that Changmin will never catch or even _see him_ staring at him like he so much desires; he’s already too busy staring at someone else to notice Younghoon looking at him.

_Changmin doesn’t love him back._

Younghoon feels his lungs filling up with petals, like he’s drowning in this ocean inside his chest, and it hurts so much.

_Changmin will never love him back._

If love is supposed to be a good thing, then why does it hurt so much?

**3.**

“Love is like flowers. It grows ugly and dies quickly.” It’s what Chanhee tells him. “What were you expecting when you decided to fall in love, anyway?”

Younghoon feels petals accumulating in the back of his throat, itching and scratching; he feels thorns and branches growing in his lungs, taking his breath away. He doesn’t know how much time he has left; whether if it’s days, weeks or months, it wouldn’t be fair to die without saying goodbye to Chanhee.

“Falling in love isn’t a conscious choice. You don’t get to decide whether you’ll fall in love or not.” He sighs. “Do you think anyone would choose to fall in love with someone who doesn’t love them back?”

“Who knows. Some people live for the pain.” Chanhee deadpans. “Now, on a less skeptical note, why did you call me here today? You don’t usually call unless it’s something important.”

“I’m dying, Chanhee.”

“Stop joking around. This isn’t funny.” He warns, stern, voice tinted with concern. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“It’s true. I- I don’t know how much time I have left. But I didn’t want to, you know,” Younghoon chokes out, voice sounding like nothing but a strangled noise in the back of his throat, “I didn’t want to die without saying goodbye.”

Chanhee stares at the bloody hydrangea flower Younghoon just coughed out. _Heartlessness._ It lands in the middle of the table, on top of the pristine white napkin underneath Chanhee’s hands. His expression softens visibly. Younghoon doesn’t want his pity, but he’s dying and it’s all Chanhee’s fault. Maybe Chanhee’s pity is all he can get. “Who is it?”

“Promise me you won’t tell him.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course I will tell him. You’re willing to die for this guy, don’t you think he should at least know?” Chanhee argues. “Unless… you already told him and he rejected you, which, either way, I will tell him.”

“It’s Changmin.”

A pause. “Does he know?”

“I don’t think he does. He already loves someone else.” **_You. _**But Younghoon can’t blame it all on him. It isn’t his fault. Chanhee probably doesn’t even know Changmin is harboring feelings for him, the same way Changmin doesn’t know about Younghoon’s feelings for him. It’s kind of sad, really, how love made all three of them so oblivious. But it’s too late now.

“He’s your best friend. Don’t you think he deserves to know his best friend is dying?”

“You’re my best friend too.”

Chanhee narrows his eyes at him, suspicious. Angry, even. “That isn’t enough for me.”

Chanhee coughs a snapdragon flower. _Deception._

Younghoon understands now.

“I’m sorry. God, Chanhee, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare and feel sorry for me. I don’t want your pity.”

“You can get them removed.” He suggests, but that only gets him a contemptuous laugh from Chanhee.

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to wake up and forget one day I loved you. My time here is limited. You can ask me anything, and I mean _anything_, and I’ll do it.” Chanhee says, hurt and miserable and it hurts Younghoon so much to see him like this. It hurts even more to know he’s the reason behind all of this. Chanhee is dying and it’s his fault. “But don’t ask me to do that. I won’t do it.”

Younghoon stares at the snapdragon flower in his hands. It hurts. It stings.

“Spring is the most beautiful season. You made flowers bloom inside my lungs, and they’re so beautiful, Younghoon. What I feel for you is beautiful. But I can’t breathe. I’m going to die soon; I don’t know _how soon,_ but probably soon enough. Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m in peace with my fate. I don’t regret loving you, even for a second.”

“Don’t ask me _not to_ die for you, Younghoon. You know I will.”

**4.**

It happens almost too unexpectedly.

_Almost._

Love is like flowers. It grows beautiful and dies beautiful.

Love is something that, just like flowers, grows. It grows from something so small and seemingly insignificant to something that can be _oh, so wonderful_ as it blossoms in one’s heart.

Changmin doesn’t know where _exactly_ in what stages of falling in love he is right now, but it’s safe to say he’s gone through most of the yearning, the nourishing and the blooming of love with so much compassion, so much certainty that Chanhee reciprocated his feelings and so much pain when he started coughing one daffodil at a time. _Unrequited love._

There’s so much, so much happiness usually involved being and feeling loved by someone, having our emotions reciprocated by the other person, experiencing this hurricane kind of life that we’ve been waiting for our entire lives. Changmin wishes he could experience that, being loved back and the subject of Chanhee’s heartfelt songs and poems and affection. It would be nice to be the one Chanhee’s gaze is seeking, the one he craves and wants so bad it hurts. It would be nice not to experience the heart-wrenching pain of craving someone he could never have, even if just for a moment. But that’s not reality.

The flowers growing inside of Changmin’s lungs, however, are very real.

**5.**

_Love._ Tricky little game that causes nothing but pain, nothing but hurt.

There’s this weirdly painful pleasure in loving someone who doesn’t love you back, in wanting someone so bad you can’t have to the point your feelings start consuming you, in yearning and hoping that, someday, you’ll be their one and only. There’s so much expectation built in with the hope, with the longing, that it makes one almost giddy to the thought of being loved back. That, when they love us back, because they will, (the lies we tell ourselves to stop hurting), all our insecurities and fears, specially of rejection, will have been worth it, because we’re loved back and for a millisecond, that’s truly the only thing that matters. The relief that comes with having your feelings reciprocated when confessing. There’s nothing that feels as good and validating than being loved back by someone you love.

Ah, love. The things it does to us. The way it fools us into thinking there’s hope in hopeless love. The way it makes us so oblivious to literally everything else outside the lovestruck bubble we build around ourselves in a relationship. The way it makes us so willing to give and give and give without expecting anything in return. The way we crave it so much as some sort of external validation because we’re too scared to be deemed as lonely, or unsuccessful when unable to maintain a relationship.

Chanhee sounds truly bitter when he talks about love like this, but for someone who doesn’t believe in love at all, he is surely having it hard. Falling in love is probably one of the most irrational things Chanhee has ever done, falling head over heels for his best friend _knowing_ his feelings would never be reciprocated and being so attached to the idea of being in love with Younghoon he eventually fell sick. But Chanhee not once regretted loving Younghoon, nor did he wish to eventually fall out of love and forget about him. He could never forgive himself if he didn’t at least try, because trying is the key to success and he would never know if he didn’t even try.

Chanhee isn’t good at forgiving. He isn’t good at forgetting either.

When he coughed the first petal, it was a peony. _Shame._ For not being able to confess sooner so that he could have actually had a chance, for being so scared of rejection that he hid away where no one could find him.

It’s too late. Chanhee still hasn’t learnt to forgive, or how to forget. There’s not much he can do except come to terms with his fate and enjoy his last days on this earth.

Love can be both the cure and the disease, but some people don’t want to be saved.

Chanhee is one of them. He didn’t want the cure to his disease. He would much rather die than forget he’s ever loved Younghoon.

So he did.

**+1**

The flowers have grown past the point of safe removal. There is no treatment left for them, unless accept their merciless faith. Love, that can be so easily found, that can be so easily gotten over, would be the death of them. A poetic and equally sad reason to die, really. There’s nothing that kills one soul before the body as unrequited love. It kills hope and joy and any last bit left of happiness, _all at once._

Younghoon feels oddly at peace now, as they take their last breaths.

They would be together forever, the three of them.

** _Until death do they part._ **

**Author's Note:**

> I would tell you I'm sorry for the ending, but I'm really not. I tried my best to keep it as close to what Kana originally asked, which was either killing them off or leaving it open/ambiguous. This is my first time writing hanahaki, and I'm particularly happy with the final result! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing!


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